Francis and the Hunter
by Unknown-Bliss
Summary: "Francis' mind went into overdrive. He didn't have enough time reload. He'd be dead before he could get new magazines. He made a split-second decision he knew he'd regret. It was crazy. It was all he had." In which a helpless Francis encounters a Hunter.


**Hey y'all. New to writing for the L4D fandom. I always play as Francis, so I suppose it's only natural to write about him. :D It's a normal day in the Zombie Apocalypse, and Francis has an extra-ordinary encounter with a Hunter. Language and violence. Enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: Left 4 Dead belongs to Valve!**

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"Here they come!" Francis' voice mingled with the dull roar of the approaching infected.

Behind Francis, Bill lit a new cigarette, taking in a lungful of the smoke. Zoey and Louis both reloaded their weapons. On this particular day, Francis was sticking with an auto shotgun. Nothing more fun than blowing zombies to bits.

The crazed screams of the infected swelled. It wasn't long until they were upon their prey.

"COME AND GET IT!" Francis bellowed, firing into the babbling hoard. The others joined in not two seconds after. Heads, limbs, blood, and bullets flew everywhere. The survivors devastated their foes, Francis racking up a fairly sizeable body count on his own.

"Reloading!" Bill yelled, ducking behind his still-shooting comrades.

Zoey was kneeled in front of Louis, a gleam in her eye. Her gun spat bullet upon bullet at the masses with deadly accuracy. Francis admired that about her. Nothing better than a chick committing zombie genocide.

Bill was back in the game. Francis took that opportunity to reload and resumed shooting. Louis took a shot at one infected who loomed over Francis. The zombie's head exploded, covering the biker with rotting brain mass.

"Nice shot!" he laughed. Louis could be useful when he wanted to.

Francis hooted gleefully, eliminating the last of the hoard. He and Zoey rose to their feet, and the four were able to relax a little. They knew that wouldn't be the last of them. It never was. But it was nice to celebrate a victory every once in a while.

"Nice shooting, son," Bill said, slapping Louis on the back.

"Thanks!"

Zoey joined in, giving her opinion on who had the best hits. Francis stood to the side, looking at the rows of warehouses around them. He had a nagging feeling in the back of his mind, telling him something was going to go wrong, as things usually did. His face was scrunched in concentration. Well, it seemed to be, anyways. In reality, Francis was completely ignoring the feeling, as _he_ usually did. Mostly, he was thinking of when they were going to find food. He was STARVING.

"I'm STARVING. Seriously," Francis moaned. "Where can a man get some grub around here?"

"Quit your bellyaching, Francis," Bill replied gruffly.

"I can't," the other man shot back. "Because I'm _STARVING_."

"You-" Bill started.

"Come on, kids. Does Mommy have to separate you?" Zoey interrupted, a smirk plastered on her face.

A crash interrupted them, alerting them to the second wave of the hoard. Things went to hell. Quick.

"Dammit!" Bill hissed, readying his gun with a natural speed.

"Don't they ever let up?" Louis squeaked. Despite his surprise, he was already prepared, accustomed to the constant danger after weeks of fighting.

Francis and Zoey gave them a nod. They were all set too.

Francis' first shot caught three, felling them instantly. "DIE, YOU MOTHERFUU_UUUUUUCK_!"Francis cried, suddenly feeling a Smoker's tongue squeezing him and pulling him away from the group. Francis didn't have time to react. "GOD DAMMIT! HELP!"

The biker struggled desperately, watching his companions grow smaller. He hit the wall. Instead of being pulled up to the Smoker, Francis got covered in a pile of slimy severed tongue.

"Yech," Francis gagged, heaving the heavy mass off his body. He couldn't stand Smokers. Or their tongues. He shuddered involuntarily.

_Well_, he thought, _I guess Bill took care of that._

"Wussie," Francis proclaimed with a cough. He could never get used to the smell of Smoker smoke. He waved over at the others, letting them know he was fine.

He went for his shotgun and swore when he realized it wasn't there. He must have dropped it when he was grabbed. _Of course. Just my luck. _Double pistols would have to do. He was sure he could manage until he got his main weapon back. The shotgun was lying several feet away, beckoning to him. "I'm coming, baby!" he yelled.

He worked his way back to the others, mowing down any and all zombies that got in his way. Only a few yards away from the others, Francis felt something bony grab on to his ankle, tripping him. He face-planted on the asphalt. A legless, still-alive zombie was the cause of his fall.

"Ouch," he muttered, noticing a little blood trickling down his cheek. He got his pistols and shot at the grounded zombie, using maybe a few-too many rounds. "I _hate_ vampires," he grumbled.

The hoard was thinning, but the other survivors still had their hands full.

"You okay over there, Francis?" Zoey called over, seeing him on the ground. She kicked one of the infected away fiercely, trying to inch her way over to Francis in case he was incapacitated and needed help. Bill and Louis could handle themselves.

"Fine!" he shouted back. "Just tripped. I got this!" He didn't need first aid. Maybe some pain pills, but that could wait.

Some of the infected had detached from the hoard to go after the vulnerable biker. They were on him too fast for him to get up, but he could deal with them from below. He'd had plenty of experience defending himself from the ground. He hated to admit how many time's he'd been incapacitated before. Francis picked the zombies off easily. As he nailed the last one of them between the eyes, he heard something that made his blood run cold.

The tell-tale cry of a Hunter sounded too close to Francis for comfort. He craned his neck in the direction of the sound. He froze. It was _right there_, crouched on all fours, ready to pounce. It growled at him.

Not waiting for it to get the chance to attack, Francis swung his body around, managing to get into an upright position, resting on one knee. He pointed his pistols at the Hunter.

Empty clicks.

He was out of ammo.

_Shit._

It was too late. The hunter rocketed itself in the air. Time seemed to slow down to a near halt. Francis' mind went into overdrive. He knew he didn't have enough time reload. He'd be dead before he could even grab for new magazines. He made a split-second decision that he _knew_ he'd regret. It was crazy, but it was all he had.

With a roar, Francis leaped up, throwing himself _at_ the Hunter. On his feet in less than a second, he wound back his arm, and with as much strength as he could muster, he launched his fist at the airborne zombie.

_Crack!_

Pain exploded in his fist. There was contact for just a moment, then nothing. Everything was quiet. No screams. No gunfire. No Hunter.

Francis opened his eyes, which he hadn't realized were closed. The Hunter was nowhere in sight. There was no sign of it preparing for another attack. A little stunned, the biker turned to his friends. They all had matching faces: eyes wide in amazement, jaws dropped in shock. Bill's cigarette smoldered on the ground at his feet. Francis turned back around. He looked close into the mass of dead surrounding him. Lying on a few other bodies was the Hunter, still, unmoving.

Louis was the first to speak. "I-Is it dead?" His voice was quiet.

Francis didn't say a word. Eyes not leaving the Hunter, he picked up his shotgun.

"I don't think so… Let's not stick around to find out," Bill said simply.

The safe house, they found, wasn't too far away. The four hurried to it in silence. None of them were really sure what had just happened. Had Francis really just _punched_ a _Hunter_? The biker was the quietest he'd ever been.

Once inside, Louis locked the door securely, not wanting to take any chances.

Francis ambled over to the wobbly table by the wall and set his shotgun on it. Zoey noticed his bloody right hand. "Here, let me get that," Zoey offered, opening her first aid kit. Francis hadn't noticed he was hurt. "Take some," she said, giving him some pills.

He sat down, swallowing the pills. As Zoey grabbed his hand, the reality of what he'd done seemed to suddenly sink in to Francis' brain.

"Holy shit… HOLY SHIT DID YOU SEE THAT?" Zoey and Louis jumped at the sudden outburst. A huge grin spread over Francis' face. "I totally punched out a HUNTER! I AM _AWESOME_!"

The reality of the situation seemed to sink in to the other three's brain too.

"Oh no," Bill groaned.

"You're not gonna shut up about this, are you?" Zoey had the sudden urge to find a desk and slam her head against it.

Francis' smile only grew wider.

Surprisingly, Francis remained quiet. But he would not stop smiling. It was starting to piss the others off. By the time they were ready to leave, even Louis wanted to hit the biker. They knew he couldn't hold it in for long.

The four had just made it out of the door when Francis boomed, "I bet none of you ladies could punch a Hunter in the face!"

Bill, Louis, and Zoey all smacked their faces and groaned.

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**Proudest Left 4 Dead moment: punching a Hunter in the face. I got so excited. I'm still kind of (really) sucky, and it was just after I graduated to a harder difficulty, so I was a happy U-B.**

**Anyways, sorry for pretty much ignoring Louis. I couldn't find much to do with him. Next time, Louis, I promise. I am totally making this a multi-chapter. I've got ideas already!**

**Reviews would be greatly appreciated!**


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